


Blame It on the Downpour

by PikaChiminie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, For once in my life there's no angst, One Shot, Pop the confetti, Pure wholehearted fluff, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PikaChiminie/pseuds/PikaChiminie
Summary: Christa Lenz, upon waking up in a stranger's home after a turbulent evening, quickly finds that the weather isn't so considerate of her situation, nor the dry state of her clothes.





	Blame It on the Downpour

Another morning in a stranger’s bed. Purple marks along my neck and shoulders. Scratches along my back and thighs. _Damn,_ I groggily thought, _she was rough_. And then I gazed over at the woman, at least five years older, sleeping soundly as the sun just barely began to rise over the horizon. My makeup was smeared across her pillow. I didn’t even want to deal with my hair. Another morning for Christa Lenz, although much more chaotic than the usual.

I vaguely remembered the previous night. It started with a job interview at four, then dinner with an awful date at seven, followed by a round of beers at some gay bar down the block. And it somehow ended here. I tried to remember my mystery woman’s name as the hangover headache hit like a bulldozer. My forehead pulsated and the rest of me simply felt sore.

Let’s see; I recalled her firm thighs. I think she said something about playing college sports? She was a fantastic kisser. Probably got a lot of action during those years, I’d imagine. _Katie, Kathy, Cassy?_ I guessed, running through the possible options.

Giving up on the vain task, I hung my head in shame and began the search for my scattered clothes. As I tried to piece my threadbare self together again, at least to some extent, I mulled over the absolute failure of an interview that took place yesterday.

It started with the middle-aged man eying up my legs. Definitely should’ve worn pants. Then he got a little too comfortable, and when I tried to keep his advances at bay, my chances at landing the job dwindled with every word and motion of my body.

Of course, after that I was in no such mood to interact with a cheery date. Unfortunately, she was a complete ball of energy with no sign of cooling down. I couldn’t take it for over an hour; the woman literally drained my spirit. No fault of hers, however. I’m naturally a downer and a cynic. I bid her goodnight early in the evening.

Then finally, the perfect opportunity. A tall, smooth talking, older woman willing to pay for multiple drinks. Exactly my type. Not to mention she served as an amazing distraction from reality.

Yet as I walked out of her impressively neat apartment that early morning, I felt the exhausting shame that accompanied every one-night stand. Twenty-four-year-old, closeted, recently laid off, overall sleep deprived Christa Lenz had trouble when it came to relationships.

I’d already failed miserably in the familial region, and the lack of tact apparently followed me into my love life. I think the last real girlfriend I had was during the early years of university.

Upon reflecting on my absolute failure of a life, I groaned into my open palms, then looked back up with red-rimmed eyes to face the long day ahead. I had another job interview scheduled for this afternoon, and maybe a night alone. Some time to myself might help a bit, I mused.

And then the clouds from the east rolled in, blocking out the bright rays of the rising sun. There was most definitely going to be rain this morning, although I hoped it’d be after I made it home. _Home_ , I thought, realizing that I had no clue where I was. I took a couple of calming breaths, remembering that the poor girl couldn’t have dragged my drunk ass that far from where we met.

Mapping the location out on my phone, thank every deity the battery hadn’t died, I figured the easiest route home was on public transit. There was a bus stop just down the road that would get me to my neighborhood within fifteen minutes. I sighed in relief, and glanced back up at the ever-darkening gray sky.

* * *

 It began raining sooner than I had anticipated. I was halfway to the bus stop when the sky opened fire upon its unsuspecting victim, this shockingly nice neighborhood, drenching both myself and at least the next few blocks. I jogged the rest of the way, only to find that the stop was merely a bench and a sign. No overhead cover.

As I felt the remnants of my eyeliner and mascara run inky streaks down my numb cheeks, I attempted to shield my phone from the rain with my arm. It worked enough to see a significant portion of the screen. According to the online bus schedule, I’d only have to wait another ten minutes. I audibly released a single, humorless laugh. Yeah, _only_ ten minutes.

“What’s so funny?”

I nearly squealed at the unexpected voice from behind. Whoever it was sounded mildly amused. As I prepared to turn around and face them, I briefly noticed that the rain had halted. Well, it was no longer raining on me, I observed upon glancing up to find a black umbrella.

At first I had considered a snarky reply like, _“Nothing of interest to you.”_ But after taking note of the much appreciated cover from the rain storm, I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to today’s Mystery Woman Number Two.

“I should be asking how the hell you snuck up on me so quietly” I responded, deciding it was too early in the day to even bother with attempted pleasantries.

“It wasn’t that hard, and I really wasn’t trying to scare you.” She chuckled for a few moments; it was deep, as if it had come from low in her chest. “You were just so… caught up in struggling with your phone.”

I frowned and turned around to actually take a look at her. _Holy fuck,_ I thought, mental sirens blaring in every corner of my head. _That was a mistake_. She had short brown hair that looked so smooth and _touchable_. And then, damn, all of those freckles contrasted against tan skin. I had an awful urge to simply grab her face and examine every gorgeous detail. Then she raised an inquiring brow at my prolonged silence.

“I-I, bus, was looking up times” I managed to stutter out. _You idiot_.

"Oh. This one usually runs about five to ten minutes late” she informed, voice even and low.

“Do you take it often?” I asked, suddenly wondering why she was even over here speaking to me.

“No” the brunette replied simply. My face scrunched up in confusion, and she quickly caught on. “I actually live right over there” she stated, turning around the slightest to point at the nearest building complex behind the bus stop. “I can see this spot from my apartment window.”

“Oh.”

“That’s actually why I’m out here” she said, followed by a laugh which she swiftly muffled. “Sorry. I know you’re super confused about all this. I just heard the rain against the roof, and when I took a look out, you were running over here. And then you were all wet, and it was pretty funny. But it’s not like I could leave a lady out here without an umbrella.”

I was a bit dumbfounded by her rambling of explanations. Well, it sure made sense. It was a pretty attractive area, more expensive than I was used to, I’d assume. Of course she wouldn’t need to take a bus. And upon mulling it over, I figured that she must be a few years older than me. No young adult recently out of college could afford this area. Plus, she had this mature look about her face. At the same time, however, her smile was so youthful. I involuntarily cracked a miniscule smile too.

“I’m kinda shocked, but thank you all the same. Looks like my phone can be salvaged, at the very least” I eventually responded.

“Good to hear.” The taller woman paused, then gestured to my pitiful face. “You could come inside my place and clean up really quick, you know. You won’t miss your ride.”

I frowned and reached up to attempt to wipe off some of the makeup, though to no avail. “Again, thanks. But I don’t follow strangers back home.”

She gave me a quick glance up and down, taking in my haphazard appearance and wrinkled clothes. “Uh huh” she replied with the slightest smirk.

I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked a hip. “Don’t believe me?”

“What? I definitely believe you. Then I guess we’ll just have to get well acquainted before you leave” she teased, leaning in a bit.

 “I’ve got a hard shell to crack” I shot right back, raising a challenging brow.

The rain continued to spatter harshly against the umbrella’s surface, the abundant runoff forming a puddle at our sopping feet. It was quite cold, and as much as I wanted her to bring me inside so we could dry off, among other things… I was trying to learn from my mistakes. Although admittedly, the urge was difficult to fight.

“I look forward to the conquest” she brazenly stated. Then we both perked up at the familiar sound of an engine. The bus was making its way around a corner, and heading in our direction. “Shit. Time’s up” the woman muttered, genuinely disappointed.

She glanced back at her apartment building, and chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “Well, it’s been a pleasure getting acquainted with you, blondie.”

“Christa. My name’s Christa” I hastily added as my ride home rolled closer. The bus began to slow, finally coming to a loud halt. As the glass doors slid open, I looked back up at her.

“Christa” she repeated pleasantly. Then she reached over and placed the umbrella handle in my grip, along with something that crinkled beneath it.

“Wait. Your umbrella-” I started as she took a few steps back.

She grinned and replied, “You can return it later.”

I watched wide-eyed and helpless as she jogged back to her home through the downpour. Both confused and intrigued, I looked back at the handle, then with my free hand pulled out a strip of paper she had placed between my palm and the plastic.

The scrap of paper was small, and on it was merely a phone number and a name; _Ymir_. I smiled the slightest and then slipped the number into my purse. Folding up the dripping, black umbrella, I boarded the rumbling bus. Before we drove off, I squinted through the vehicle’s spotted window. I could barely see Ymir in her apartment, waving cheekily through the wet glass.

I leaned down and buried my head in my frigid, numb hands, then laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm trying out AO3 again, because I guess that's what all the cool kids are doing these days? If you liked this short piece, do the things. Whichever of these fancy AO3 things you want.


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